


(Angry) Letters From Your Local Grocery

by MissMairin



Series: First Meetings [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Attempt at Humor, Correspondence, Friendly banter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:32:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMairin/pseuds/MissMairin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred never thought that grocery shopping was incredibly thrilling -- in fact, it was more of a routine chore, something that had to be done regularly. When he finds a note addressed to him left on an empty shelf, the weekly journey to the grocery store quickly became something he looked forward to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Salutation

 

 

If, by any chance, someone desperately needed to know where Alfred was every Wednesday afternoon, that person could ask anyone. They could ask his brother, his parents, his friends. If none of them were available for whatever reason, that someone could even ask Alfred’s dog, or that elderly man that lived in the apartment next door.

 

They would all say the same thing:

 

Every Wednesday afternoon, like clockwork, Alfred would go grocery shopping at the supermarket nearest his apartment. Of course, during the rest of the week he would sometimes stop by to grab some extra milk, or maybe a frozen pizza if he was craving it. But otherwise, every Wednesday he would write an entire list of what he needed for the week and spend his afternoon pushing a cart around, collecting food and crossing items off the list.

 

It was the same, every week.

 

Though not quite on the level of consistency the actual grocery shopping itself was, Alfred had something akin to a habit. He didn’t know how it started, or even how often it happened, but it definitely did happen.

 

After he had acquired a cart (one that rolled well enough and hardly squeaked) he would go first to the fresh produce area and do his shopping. Sometimes he would feel a burst of spontaneity and pick up something that he hadn’t specifically put on his list - lettuce, bell peppers, a bag of carrots. He’d feel proud of himself, getting healthy food, and continued on his mini journey through the grocery store.

 

However, the closer he got to checking out, the more he re-thought his idea of the healthy food item. Did he really need it? Would he actually eat it? Would it end up going to waste? He questioned himself more and more, but eventually ended up deciding against buying the food. It usually played out like that, with Alfred searching for an empty aisle space and leaving the item there for someone else to take care of.

 

He never really thought much of his little habit. Sure, he realized it was kind of rude to leave the item in the place it didn’t belong, but he eventually rationalized to himself that the employees (hopefully) wouldn’t mind one more item. It didn’t really help that Alfred was just the tiniest bit lazy, and didn’t think things all the way through. After all, he would have just finished an inner argument, there was no need for further questioning.

 

Eventually, Alfred’s habit would get him into a little bit of a… pickle, so to speak.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, the day his comfortable schedule for grocery shop was interrupted was one of the only days Alfred had a budget. A few days previous, his car broke down and needed major maintenance. Which, in turn, meant a big chunk of his paycheck would be re-routed to paying for his car repairs. He didn’t get paid until the next month, and so, he grudgingly made a budget for the small necessities: gas, food, clothing, etc.

 

And that is how Alfred found himself staring longingly at the box of muffins in his hands. He had already gotten all of the food items he actually needed, and while walking towards the checkout area, added their prices up in his mind -- the one time his incredible math skill actually came in handy. As much as he wanted the blue berry muffins, he couldn’t afford them: they put his grand total a dollar above what he actually had, including tax.

 

Mournfully, he turned around and looked around the breakfast aisle he was in for an empty spot to leave the muffins. He shuffled over unhappily to the area he had noticed and slowly put down the box. As he turned to leave, a slip of paper caught his eye. It was taped to the shelf below where he had just deposited the box of muffins.

 

He took the note from its spot on the shelf and brought it closer to his eyes to inspect. Offhandedly, he noticed it smelled like pastries and tea, but what interested him more was that it was a printed letter, not handwritten. It was typed in an extremely serious font -- something that would be used for angry letters or essays.

 

As it turned out, it actually was an angry letter, and it was addressed to him. At least, sort of.

 

_“Dear person who keeps leaving food on different shelves,_

_You have left food in different places for months now! It is incredibly irritating and rude, and I have to take time out of my shopping to put the food back, because you were too lazy and too irresponsible!”_

 

Alfred snorted, and thought to himself _‘no one asked you to’,_ but continued reading.

 

_“I have taken it upon myself to hunt you down and scold you. Using my excellent detective skills, I have deduced -- seeing as the food is always still there and had yet to be picked up by workers when I arrive -- that you go to the grocery nearly every Wednesday, in the afternoon._

_And from there, I formulated a plan. I typed this letter, and printed out several copies. Then, I arrived at our shared grocery on Wednesday, but instead of visiting the grocery in the evening as per usual, I went at lunch time, to be there before you. I then placed copies in different open spaces on different shelves that you’ve disposed of food previously. Of course, if there were multiple letters, there was a much better chance of you seeing it._

_Now, you are reading this letter, are you not? Good._

_Do not, ever again, leave food you are not buying in the aisles they do not belong, it is a hassle for everyone. Including me._

_Cheers,_

_A pissed off Englishman”_

 

Alfred wondered, for a split second, if people even said Cheers anymore, but his thoughts were ultimately jumbled, confused and amused. He un-taped the letter from the shelf and left to go check out.

 

As he entered the check out line labeled #4, he smiled flirtatiously at the girl who would be scanning his items. He piled all of his groceries from the cart onto the conveyor belt, and watched carefully as the price edged ever closer to his cash limit. Alfred complimented the shy girl, quickly paid and grabbed his groceries, saying his goodbyes.

 

Once outside, he frowned to himself, wondering what he should do about the letter currently stuffed into his pocket. Walking to his car, he loaded the groceries and a grin began to form on his face as he planned out his next move.

 

Even though Alfred knew that the entire situation really wasn’t a big deal, he could be quite the stubborn mule. Plus, it could maybe be fun, if he played his cards right.

 

The author of the note better watch their back, because Alfred was coming for them.

 

* * *

 

 

The next week, on a Wednesday afternoon like always, Alfred strolled into the grocery store. He was more happy than usual, and he was excited to put his plan into effect. It was actually a solid idea, screw anyone who thought Alfred was an idiot.

 

He grabbed a cart, wincing at the squeaky noise it made, and made a beeline straight for the organic area. The area was filled to the brim with different types of fruit and vegetables, and it smelled really good. Coincidentally, that was also where he would find the items necessary for his plan. He went to the shelf containing the strawberries (what, he actually did eat fruit sometimes!) and eyed the different containers. Eventually, he picked one up that didn’t have any bruised strawberries and seemed ripe enough for his tastes.

 

Pushing the cart along, he snatched a single banana and two potatoes and laid the items in his cart. Proud of himself, he continued his regular shopping, mentally checking items off his list until he came into the cereal/breakfast aisle. He picked up a box of Frosted Flakes, and quickly found an empty spot on a shelf that would be easily noticed. Digging around his cart, he brought out the banana and the potatoes to put them on the shelf, arranging them in a specific way.

 

They were arranged into a smiley face.

 

Stuffing his hand into his pocket, Alfred took out a handwritten note he had made specially for this. The note was even carefully written, so even a child could decipher his handwriting. He placed the slip of paper underneath a potato, and eyed his little creation in delight. It took all his self control not to laugh like a villain, there were too many people wandering around the aisle.

 

Turning back to his cart, he walked away nonchalant, and finished up his grocery shopping. As he thought about his note, he smiled to himself, filled to the brim with silly anticipation and a little bit of smugness.

 

_“Dear pissed off Englishman,_

_It sounds like you’re a little bit upset with me, why don’t you relax and smile a little bit?  :) :) I’m sure it’d look fantastic on you._

_Over & Out,_

_That person that keeps leaving food on shelves_

_… (or, seeing as it’s much easier, you can just call me an amused American -- look at that, I even matched your nickname, now we’re totally official!)”_

 


	2. The Body

 

A week later, on Wednesday like always, Alfred found himself at the grocery. Now, that in and of itself wasn’t very surprising, but the fact that he was looking forward to shopping, that he was actually excited? That’s what was surprising.

 

He hurried through the first part of his grocery list, eager to get to the aisles where it was possible to leave notes. Each item dumped into the cart and checked off the list was one more item closer to finding a note from the mysterious (and pissed off) Englishman.

 

If there was a note, at all.

 

There had to be, Alfred was sure of it. The person who wrote the first letter wouldn’t give up after only one rebuttal, that much was obvious. He could only hope the author was like him, and had a routine for grocery shopping.

 

He picked out a box of Frosted Flakes, and it wasn’t until he was walking out of the breakfast aisle that it occurred to him: the note might be in the same place it had been before. Alfred quickly backtracked and searched for the empty area. It wasn’t easy. A lot of the cereal had been restocked and there were barely any empty spots for letters, but he eventually found one of the letters.

 

It was difficult not to do a victory dance in the middle of the breakfast aisle. He snatched up the letter and quickly read it, full of anticipation.

 

_“Dear An Amused American,_

_You are insufferable! Not only do you make a mockery of my letter, but you have the nerve to leave a smiley face made out of fruit and vegetables?_

_At least come up with a better name, yours is ridiculous and I felt incredibly silly writing ‘An Amused American’. Though, I do give you credit for using alliteration, if you even know what that means._

_Sincerely,_

_Still a pissed off Englishman”_

 

* * *

 

 

Just like that, Alfred fell into an easy exchange with the Englishman. Every Wednesday he looked forward to either a response to whatever letter he had written, or leaving an obnoxious letter for the other man to read. It was something he enjoyed, teasing the person he could not see, and getting scolding letters in return. He wasn’t sure what exactly was enjoyable about it, but it was obvious he had changed his opinion on grocery shopping.

 

One day, after he had taped down a letter in response to the Englishman, and after he had finished his shopping, he went to check out. Alfred chose the checkout lane #4, mostly because he prefered routine and every time he checked out, it was the same girl. They usually didn’t talk much besides a few sentences on how the weather was doing, or if the local sports team lost.

 

Unfortunately, even the most routine things can change.

 

“So, you’ve been smiling a lot,” the girl pointed out, though it was mostly a question. She scanned items and sent them down to be bagged, looking up and smiling shyly at him, like she had finally gotten the courage to ask him. She probably had.

 

Alfred was quiet for a moment, debating how to explain what had been going on without sounding completely insane. He swiped his debit card and punched in his pin number, and replied ambiguously, “Grocery shopping really isn’t so much of a chore now.”

 

The cashier glanced at him bewildered, obviously thinking Alfred was crazy, before nodding and smiled at him as if she was happy for him. They said goodbye and he walked away, still grinning.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dear Englishman,_

_Sorry I had to shorten your name, I got bored of writing ‘pissed off’. Mostly because you’re not angry, you’re just a little flustered, you know? There’s a difference._

_The other day, the girl that checks me out (in the grocery store line, not because I’m attractive. Well, I am attractive, but you know what I mean.) told me that I’ve been smiling more than usual. I told her that grocery shopping isn’t boring anymore. You’ve become my entertainment for Wednesdays, congratulations!_

_Smell ya later,_

_Grocery Store Super Hero_

_P.S. I changed my name for you”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dear Grocery Store Super Hero,_

_I don’t really think this name is any better. It actually might be worse, though if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you by now is that you enjoy getting on my nerves. I suppose there won’t ever be a name I will like, in that case, hmm?_

_By the way, will you ever stop leaving items on top of your letters? Or do you just do that to get on my nerves? Who am I kidding? You do it to get on my nerves. At least leave something useful next time, like Earl Grey Tea._

_Sincerely,_

_Englishman”_

 

* * *

 

 

Alfred grinned, not caring if he seemed a little bit off. The entire world should know he was happy and excited! He took his time shopping, though he was eager to get to the breakfast aisle and leave his letter. In the past few weeks, he had finally started to consider them something akin to pen pals, though definitely more hostile.

 

It had been nearly three months since the entire fiasco had begun, and there had only been a few letters. Of course, it made sense. There could only be one letter per week. If Alfred left a letter, he had to wait until the next week to get the Englishman’s letter, and then another week to leave a response.

 

This led to Alfred thinking about the Englishman’s responses as he wandered through the store. If he left a letter, the Englishman would get it the next Wednesday before Alfred returned. But wouldn’t that mean he would have to write the letter on the spot?

 

Probably.

 

There was always a letter waiting for him when he got there, and besides the first two, they had been handwritten. Alfred wondered if the Englishman brought a notepad with him, just to respond. That was commitment. He told himself he would add that in his next letter, he didn’t usually compliment the Englishman. Maybe he would enjoy the compliment.

 

Alfred could only hope.

 

When he finally made his way into the breakfast aisle, he made a beeline to their own little area where they put their correspondence. The empty shelf had became their home base, even if cereal boxes piled up on top of the shelf: they both knew to look at the spot.

 

Alfred reached into his back pocket and pulled out his letter, unaware that he was being watched. He lifted up one of the cereal boxes on the shelf and put the letter under it, confident the Englishman would know where to look. As he turned to leave, he finally noticed the person staring at him.

 

It was an employee. A really, really old man.

 

The man hobbled towards Alfred, staring at him, as if he was trying to understand exactly what was going on. Apparently, he had seen the entire thing, and no doubt had probably seen the previous exchanges. He stopped in front of Alfred, standing his ground, and pointed at him, obviously calling him out.

 

“You,” he said, “Why are there always pieces of paper there?”

 

Alfred stumbled over his words, trying to explain without trying to sound weird. It wasn’t working very well as he could feel his face heating up, probably turning his cheeks red from embarrassment. The old man just stared at him, as if he couldn’t decide how he felt about the customer.

 

The old man was silent for a long time, before he finally broke eye contact. He took a deep breath, and looked away, shrugging. “Alright then. You can have the spot. Just…”

 

He trailed off, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say. Shaking his head, he walked away without ever finishing his thought. Alfred stood frozen in place. He didn’t know what to do, so he shoved all the weird emotions back down and continued his shopping like nothing had happened.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dear Grocery Store Super Hero,_

_Thanks for the tea. I ended up buying it instead of putting it back where it belonged. However, I did not appreciate the hamburger seasonings, I did have to return those._

_Yes, I do bring a notepad with me to reply to you. Mostly though, I do it because I know you would be impatient if I did not. Also, I will not thank you for the compliment because I’m ninety nine percent sure you’re being sarcastic. It is hard to understand sarcasm with just words, if you ask me._

_I would appreciate it if you stopped changing my name. You keep shortening it, you cannot get much shorter than E. I cannot comprehend how you went from a pissed off Englishman to Englishman to English to E in a matter of months. Please make up your mind._

_Regards,_

_An irritated Englishman”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dear E,_

_If I stop leaving stuff for you to put back, will you tell me your name? Here, I didn’t even leave any items this time. Are you proud of me? I bet you are._

_Toodles,_

_Grocery Store Super Hero”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“my name is Arthur”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dear Arthur,_

_You know, the proper etiquette for letters is that you have a salutation, a body, and a closing with a signature. Your letter did not, I apologize. I guess the American is better at English than the Englishman, huh?_

_Just kidding, I’m sure you’re better at English, please don’t yell at me with your weird British curse words. I’m a math person, if you were wondering. You probably weren’t but… yeah._

_See you later alligator,_

_Alfred”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Dear Alfred,_

_As you so eloquently put it, I do suppose I must use proper etiquette for letters. Though, you’re missing the very first part: the header. However, seeing as neither of us had ever used a header nor addresses, I’ll give you a pass on that one._

_Is it bad that I had a feeling you might’ve been a math person? I won’t yell at you with my scary English curse words, you’ve been good. You haven’t left any items for me to put back, so I guess I can put up with you, if you dare insist._

_In a while, crocodile,_

_Arthur”_

 

* * *

 

 

Alfred stared down at the paper in his hands, stunned into silence. Did the stuck up Englishman that had been scolding him for weeks really return his see you later, alligator? With the correct response, too? Incredible.

 

He carefully folded the letter and put it in his pocket. It would probably be weird to keep this letter, but it didn’t matter to him. Alfred knew he wanted to befriend this nerd named Arthur, and sooner rather than later. They had been talking for way too long already, over five months.

 

Alfred went to check out, again at lane #4, and made small talk with the young girl. It seemed so long ago that she had asked why he was so much happier, but he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. This exchange he had with these letters did make him happy. It made even the most boring and mundane chores bearable, if not fun. Grocery shopping had turned into something he enjoyed, something he looked forward to.

 

Suddenly, Alfred was grateful he replied to the first letter, all those months ago. He was glad they started their rocky relationship, annoying and pissing each other off. However, the letters slowly transitioned from hostile to annoyed to curious. His only hope was that he could coax them into an actual friendship, they had come so far.

 

He briefly wondered if Arthur already considered them friends, or if he kept denying their friendship. Either way, it didn’t really matter if they could only talk once per week, through letters. Walking out to his car with his bagged groceries, Alfred bit his lip in concentration. He would have to think of a plan to get them to meet face-to-face.

 

Hopefully everything turned out okay.

 

 


	3. The Closing

_Arthur,_

_Did you know, today is our 7th month anniversary of being pen pals? Isn’t that cute? Maybe I should’ve left you a present, but naaah. Knowing you, you probably would’ve put it back in the grocery store’s gift shop. How rude, you’re such a mean pen pal._

_Just kidding, you’re pretty cool. Would it be embarrassing to admit that I look forward to Wednesdays now? Because I totally do. ;)_

_Anyways… hey! I just thought of something! If you’re such a great detective, Mr. Sherlock, why didn’t you just find me and scold me in person? Bet you never thought of that one before! Alfred: 1 Arthur: 0_

_Peace out, homie,_

_Alfred_

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Alfred,_

_I really wish you would stop with the ridiculous closings. A simple sincerely, or even a goodbye, would suffice. I also really wish you would cease being annoying, but I suppose you probably think that is a part of your charm._

_Hint: it’s not._

_Happy 7 month anniversary, you utter imbecile. Yes, to answer your question, that is completely embarrassing but I doubt you have any qualms at all with that. I can just see you, going around spewing embarrassing things without a second thought. But I guess if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be Alfred. You truly are one of a kind, though I’m not sure if that is entirely a good thing._

_I am quite the detective, rest assured, Alfred. I did think about finding you in person but eventually decided against it, for several reasons. It would make you a real person that I could actually talk to. It was much easier to think of you as some jerk that I’ll never meet, as opposed to someone I could actually see and fight with._

_Plus… I didn’t exactly want to yell at someone in the middle of a grocery store._

_But now…? I don’t know. I guess I do think of you as some sort of pen pal. (Don’t get too excited, though. You’re still obnoxious.) It would ruin the point of being pen pals if I tried to find out who you really were._

_As usual,_

_Arthur_

 

* * *

 

 

_Why don’t we just become regular pals? - Alfred_

 

* * *

 

 

The next week, Alfred walked slowly into the grocery store with mixed feelings. He was excited at the prospect of a reply to his daring note. Though he had written the note without the proper etiquette for letters, he thought it would be easier for Arthur to have something to rant about, rather than just focusing on what the actual request was for.

 

Yes, he was excited, but he was also somewhat nervous. What if Arthur didn’t want to be friends with him? What if the entire correspondence was some stupid joke? Alfred felt like he was meeting someone from the internet for the first time, worrying about being catfished.

 

Alfred took his time doing his grocery shopping, dragging his feet and even passing the breakfast aisle up to finish his shopping before he dared look at their not-so-secret spot. He finally gathered the courage to enter the cereal aisle and grabbed a box of cereal and pop tarts before he eventually stood in front of their shelf.

 

There was no letter.

 

There wasn’t a response from Arthur. Even though Alfred’s previous note had been taken, it was hard to ignore the pang of sadness that shot through his body. He had really believed he had made a new friend, but maybe not.

 

Who knows? Maybe Arthur had something that came up, like a death in the family or something equally serious. Maybe he had forgotten. There could have been a number of any other explanations. After all, Alfred was known for his non stop optimism.

 

Despite the other explanations, he was scared he frightened Arthur away with his request. Digging through his pockets, he brought out the packet of sticky notes and the pen he kept for emergencies. This was as good as any other emergency, he supposed. On the top sticky note, he drew a frowny face and stuck it to the shelf. He hoped that Arthur would at least leave some sort of a response. The only thing he could really do at that moment was hope, and at least he was good at that.

 

* * *

 

 

The week after that, Alfred was even less enthusiastic about going grocery shopping. He had even thought about skipping the weekly journey, but eventually decided against it. Routine was a big part of his life, and he desperately needed a gallon of milk as well.

 

Like the previous week, he did all his shopping before he even dared to go into the breakfast aisle. He was too nervous to see what was there, or the lack thereof. For the first time in a long time, his unwavering optimism came through for him.

 

On the shelf, there wasn’t a letter, nor a note. There was, however, another sticky note covering his frowny face sticky note. It was a neon green one, compared to his ordinary yellow sticky notes. On the front, there was a smiley face in a direct polar opposite. _‘Okay’_ was written in shaky handwriting underneath the smiley face. Underneath the single word was a postscript.

_P.S._

_Your note didn’t have proper letter etiquette. I’m disappointed, Alfred._

 

Alfred struggled not to dance around and yell in happiness, considering it would be just a tad weird to do that at a grocery store. It almost surprised him how invested he had become in this weird friendship, but at that point, he was too happy to care. It had been eight months since they had started writing to each other, and they were finally about to meet face to face.

 

Even though he had went grocery shopping, prepared to be let down and shut out, Alfred had brought his own notepad and pen. Just in case Arthur had decided to reply to him. He took out his notebook and pen, flipping to the next available page and wrote a letter using exact etiquette. Including the header, just to be obnoxious one last time.

 

_“World News Grocery Store_

_September 5th_

_Dear Arthur,_

_Sorry if I made any mistakes or left something out in my header. It’s been several years since I’ve had an English class. Even then, I never really paid attention._

_Anyway. Today is the 5th. You will get this letter on the 12th. Have lunch with me on Wednesday the 19th, and I will not take no for an answer. Meet me at that small cafe on the corner of Seventh Street and Forsythia Lane at noon._

_Hopefully I won’t disappoint._

_Till then,_

_Alfred”_

 

* * *

 

 

_“Alfred,_

_Oh, I’m sure you will disappoint, but do not despair, I will have lunch with you. I suppose the next time we talk, it will be in person._

_See you then,_

_Arthur”_

 

* * *

 

 

Alfred smile down at the small note in his hands. Arthur had forgotten the header, but Alfred had a sneaking suspicion that it was on purpose. He folded the letter gently and put it in his pocket for safekeeping. Only one week until they finally met face to face.

 

He wasn’t sure if the first thing he wanted to do was hug Arthur, or punch him. Arthur probably wouldn’t appreciate either option. Either way, Alfred would probably end up saying something completely stupid instead.

 

 


	4. Part 4: The Signature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! This is the last chapter, and it's probably not the best, but I had to wrap this little series up. Thanks for all your lovely comments & thanks for sticking around.

 

Alfred checked the clock on his car’s dashboard one last time before he pulled into a parking lot. He was already five minutes late to their little cafe meeting, and the parking lot was a few blocks down. Resigning himself to having to run, he got out of the car and jogged down the sidewalk, hoping Arthur would not have left already, only after a few minutes.

 

But really, Alfred knew nothing about Arthur. He scolded himself for not asking what they’d be wearing, or something that was unique and would be easy to pick out of a crowd. He should’ve said wear a blue hat or something stupid but useful. Any guy at the cafe could be Arthur, and he couldn’t exactly going around asking every guy eating alone what their name was.

 

Well, he probably could. But he didn’t want to. Just a bit creepy.

 

He came to a stop in front of the cafe, bending over to catch his breath. When he finally stood up, he scanned the outdoor area for any clue that could lead him to Arthur. He had been expecting the search to be incredibly difficult, but it actually wasn’t.

 

At an outdoor table on the edge of the cafe, there was a young man with huge eyebrows and bright green eyes, adorned with a green sweater vest. He was drinking tea. Somehow, Alfred knew he was Arthur.

 

Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, he walked over to the table and cleared his throat. “Are you Arthur?”

 

“Alfred?” he questioned, his British accent incredibly thick. He put down his cup of tea on the saucer and smiled, studying Alfred carefully. Laughing, he said, “Yes, I suppose you are Alfred.”

 

Now, he probably should’ve taken offense to that, but he was too surprised that this person was Arthur, his Arthur. Alfred wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it. However, he wasn’t exactly against it.

 

“You’re drinking tea,” Alfred said dumbly, sitting down in the plastic chair.

 

“I am,” Arthur agreed, hiding his smile with another sip of tea. He pushed the small bag of pastries he had bought from the bakery down the street towards his new friend. “How did you know it was me?”

 

“You want me to be honest?” Alfred asked, and when he nodded in response, he startled babbling, “It was your clothes. And you’re drinking tea. And you have really big eyebrows that are actually surprising flattering. Though you never told me you had big eyebrows. I don’t know how I knew. I just did. Uh, yeah. So there you go. Yup.”

 

“Um. Thanks?”

 

Alfred nearly smacked himself for being a complete idiot, but instead he stuffed a doughnut into his mouth. Maybe he’d choke and wouldn’t make a fool of himself any longer. Unfortunately, he doubted it: he could down food like no other. He looked down at his clothes and suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing his Captain America shirt, no wonder Arthur knew it was him. This was embarrassing.

 

“Relax,” Arthur said with a laugh. He smiled at Alfred, and held his hands together, intertwining his fingers. “You’re exactly how I imagined you, actually.”

 

“Really?” Alfred asked, surprised.

 

“Yes, you’re completely dorky and quite silly,” Arthur smirked, “But it’s working for you, I guess. You’re kind of charming in your own way, I suppose.”

 

“Is that a good thing?”

 

“No, definitely not. Unfortunately, I think I’ll be stuck with you for a while,” Arthur explained, and rolled his eyes. What he had said sounded rude, but his words held no malice. If anything, there was just a little bit of affection. “I’m sure if I tried to get rid of you, you’d find somehow to keep annoying me.”

 

“Probably,” Alfred said, smiling as he called over a waitress.

 

* * *

 

 

Despite starting off a little bit awkward, they quickly got along and their lunch turned out wonderfully. It was like they were leaving letters for each other, all over again, but this time they were talking face to face. They had picked up right where they left off.

 

Alfred easily teased Arthur, and Arthur easily retorted. It was as if they had been friends for a big portion of their life. They ate their lunch, talking about random things, smiling and laughing. Maybe just a little bit of scowling, courtesy of Arthur.

 

When they finally finished their lunch, their waitress left the check for them. They had forgotten to ask the waitress to split the bill, and she ended up both their lunches was on one check. Alfred reached for it first, beating Arthur to the punch. He grinned easily as he pulled out his wallet.

 

Arthur scowled, and dug around his wallet for some cash and grumbled, “At least let me pay you back.”

 

“No, no, I insist,” Alfred replied, taking his debit card out of his wallet. He put it on top of the check for the waitress to take the next time she returned. Turning back to Arthur, he grinned, “I’m the hero, you know?”

 

“I don’t think heroes go around paying peoples bills,” Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes. Crossing his arms, he huffed in annoyance one last time but finally gave in. “Fine. You can pay but I’ll pay for the next time.”

 

The waitress came back and smiled at the two men. They thanked her and she took the check and the debit card and left to go complete the bill. His ears perked up as he processed what had just been said, and he looked at Arthur, grinning.

 

“Oh, oh, so we’re going to have a next time, huh?” Alfred asked, smirking and grinning mischievously again. He tapped his fingers on the table and tilted his head in amusement as Arthur flushed, looking away with embarrassment.

 

“I didn’t…” Arthur faltered, before scowling and grumbling, “I didn’t mean it like that! You’re so insufferable!”

 

Alfred chuckled, looking up briefly as the waitress returned the check to the table and turned to leave. He pulled the receipt towards himself, quickly calculating a 20% tip to add to the bill. Usually he left a 15% tip, but she had to deal with the two men all afternoon. He stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up slightly. Glancing over at Arthur, he announced, “I bet you’re so glad you finally met me! Am I everything you ever dreamed of?”

 

“If you count nightmares as dreams, then yes, you are,” Arthur taunted briefly, before looking down and picking at his napkin. He took a deep breath, and muttered, “Though I admit… You’re not that bad, I guess.”

 

Alfred grinned (he had been doing that a lot) like a little kid at Christmas time and tapped the pen on the table. He watched as Arthur stood up to leave. Alfred quickly glanced back down at the receipt and signed his name on the signature line quickly in an effort to leave with Arthur.

 

He stood up quickly and scrambled after Arthur, slinging an arm around him. Arthur grumbled something about being insufferable and how it was better when they were pen pals, but didn’t shove his arm off.

 

Alfred disagreed, he definitely preferred it this way. He could be obnoxious with Arthur in the flesh, and he didn’t think he would ever get tired of the way Arthur’s eyebrows scrunched up when he was annoyed. Yeah, this was way better than writing to each other.

 

Though, he had to admit it was sad to see the end of an era, and he didn’t think he’d look forward to grocery shopping as much anymore, it was nice to have a new friend. Maybe, after they were closer, Alfred would find a company that still delivered dancing telegrams.

 

Arthur would like that.

 

Or maybe he’d hate it.

 

Either way, Alfred was pretty sure he’d have fun with Arthur. It was incredible how they had met from letters in a grocery store. The entire situation was almost like something out of a romantic comedy. Really, who leaves a scolding letter for a random person in a grocery store? Ridiculous. Yet, it happened, and Alfred was really happy it did.

 

 

>   _Th_ _is message will self-destruct in 10 seconds,_
> 
> _Alfred F. Jones_


End file.
